


Muddle

by mrs_leary (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-09
Updated: 2010-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-28 08:20:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Colin asks Bradley to take a role in a play at short notice, and the subject matter forces them both to confront the truth of their feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Muddle

**Author's Note:**

> For my dear friend **asifidletyou** , cos we went to see a production of EM Forster’s _Maurice_ last weekend, and thought the casting should be thus… ♥

♦

Come January, Bradley was at such a loose end that he’d even caught up with his fanmail. _Merlin_ was finally over, everyone was off doing their own thing – and despite all the affectionate assertions about staying in touch, the truth was that those bonds had loosened as they’d all flown apart. Bradley was all rested and recuperated now, and had even recovered from a _serious_ family Christmas with all the trimmings, but rehearsals for the Joe Wright film wouldn’t start until the end of February, and there were only so many times he could go over the script before growing stale. So that was the first contributing factor in Bradley getting himself into this impossible situation. Bradley was bored.

He may even have felt a bit lonely, he wouldn’t like to say – but that might help explain why he was eager to agree when Colin called and started talking at great speed about someone dropping out of the play he was in for a better offer (the _lucky_ bastard but bastard nevertheless), and the understudy suffering something virulent that they hoped and prayed wasn’t swine flu, and would Bradley be at all interested in helping them out for a modest three week run? ‘It’ll be _great_ to work together again,’ Colin added, warmly and _quite_ unnecessarily.

‘Sure, I’ll come in and talk with the director, if you really think –’

‘Mate, they _know_ how good you are,’ Colin replied, with all his considerable earnestness. ‘And I’ve told them how hard you work. The part’s yours if you want it.’

‘Sure. I’ll come in,’ he repeated, somewhat dazed. Bradley had always been a sucker for Colin Morgan’s genuine brand of flattery. And he had missed the man, and had wistfully wondered if their rather unlikely friendship would survive the fact that _Merlin_ was over. So that was the second contributing factor.

The third was Bradley’s utter cluelessness. He seemed to have already committed himself to the production, and been welcomed to rehearsals the next morning with gratifying warmth, before he’d quite realised that they were talking about him playing the lead role. ‘What?!’ he’d protested at some point, rather flabbergasted to say the least.

‘Yes, you’ll be _perfect_ ,’ the director and producer rattled on – ‘embodying a quintessential Englishness,’ they continued – ‘and such blond good looks can never go astray in such a production,’ they informed him – ‘not to mention you’re _well_ fit.’

‘But I can’t learn a lead role in a _week_!’ he spluttered. ‘I thought it must be a _small_ part, a _supporting_ role –’

‘No, we need you to play Maurice.’

‘You’ll be brilliant,’ Colin put in, all cheerful heartiness, damn him.

‘Colin –’

‘I’ll work with you 24/7,’ his friend promised. ‘Anything you need, I’ll help you with. We’ll rehearse every waking moment.’

Bradley just stared around at them all, wondering how on earth they could even conceive of the notion that he would be able to do this.

‘Are you familiar with the book at all, Mr James?’ the director asked. ‘Or the Merchant Ivory film?’

And he found himself coming out by admitting, ‘It was the only gay book in the entire school library. I read it so often that the spine fell apart.’

‘Good.’ They were all so utterly complacent about this.

Bradley protested, ‘Having the book by heart doesn’t have much to do with learning the role!’

‘The play follows the book very closely,’ they assured him.

‘It’ll be all right,’ said Colin. And his friend leaned closer to him, spoke somewhat more confidentially. ‘Look, rehearse with us today, and work with me this evening. You don’t have to decide until tomorrow. Just give it a go!’

And, _oh_ … those appealing ocean–blue eyes and that lovely earnest face and Colin Morgan’s deep brand of faith… ‘All right,’ Bradley found himself saying. And after all, he had nothing better to do that day. He may as well hang out with Colin. ‘All right. I’ll give it a try.’

♦

Such was Bradley’s utter cluelessness that it took a while for the fact that Colin was playing Alec Scudder to sink in – or, more to the point, it was a while before it finally dawned on Bradley that he would be required to fall in love with Colin throughout the second act for twenty–one performances, not to mention during a week of rehearsals.

The whole cast had come in on that first morning to meet Bradley, and were doing a rather thorough read–through in the hopes of getting the new guy up to speed as quickly as possible – and Colin was miming the rather pointed placement of a bucket under a leak in the ceiling, and asking, ‘Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?’ with this amazing combination of innocence and insinuation – and Bradley was sitting there feeling rather gobsmacked by what could very well prove to be his own personal version of hell – and the director was saying encouragingly, ‘Yes, that’s it exactly, Bradley. Maurice is dumbfounded by Alec, but there’s no real conscious recognition yet. Perfect!’ – and Bradley almost wept.

♦

‘I really don’t think –’ Bradley tried to announce at the end of a nerve–wracking day –

But Colin had slipped his arm through Bradley’s and was walking him off towards the doors, calling a cheery goodnight to the company, and then confiding to Bradley, ‘I’m coming round to yours. We’ll get take–out, and run your lines.’

‘Colin –’

‘No, don’t thank me. Least I can do.’

‘I wasn’t going to _thank_ you!’ Bradley protested. ‘Fuck’s sake, Colin. What have you got me into?’

And Colin winked at him, with those wickedly beautiful ocean–blue eyes sparkling. ‘You are going to be _so_ brilliant.’

‘I don’t have the _first_ idea why you should think so.’

They were sitting side by side on the Tube by now. ‘You’ll be perfect,’ Colin insisted. ‘Maurice is very English, and always in a muddle, and you’ll make muddle look totally appealing –’

‘Oh thank you _very_ much.’

‘– until finally he’s brave enough to win through to the truth, and then there’s this wonderful calm clarity about him, and he’s genuinely heroic. And we all know,’ Colin leaned in close to say warmly, ‘that you can do heroic just _beautifully_.’

Bradley gaped at him, and they were on his front steps and Bradley was fumbling for his keys before he’d regrouped enough to start arguing again. ‘But what the fuck, Colin… I can’t learn this in a _week_.’

‘Yeah, you can. I’ll help, I’ll run through it all with you every day, for as long as you can stand it. And anyway, even if you do fluff a line or two on opening night, charm and muddle will see you through.’

‘ _God_ , Colin…’

♦

Despite Bradley’s sense of complete incompetence and impending disaster, that evening turned out to be the best fun he’d had since… since those early heady days, so many years ago now, when he and Colin had finally realised how very much they liked each other despite the odds against that even happening, and Bradley had dared to hope for a while that Colin might eventually become his. Those days were long gone, but this… _this_ was wonderful.

They ate and they drank and they mucked about, but mostly they ran through the play – they went through the whole thing twice – with Colin taking every role except that of Maurice, and playing each with an intoxicating mix of genius and absurdity. When Bradley was being serious rather than collapsing in hysterical giggles at his friend’s antics, he found that – partly in simple reaction to Colin’s prompts and choices – he could already feel a performance vaguely starting to take shape within him. It helped that much of the dialogue was drawn directly from the novel, and while Bradley would never have been able to quote it before, when he was acting in context then it was as if he were rediscovering the words rather than learning them fresh.

Of course at this stage, as had been the case all day, the directions were tersely spoken or at most mimed. Only now it was Colin rather than the director who said, at alarmingly regular intervals, ‘They kiss.’ Bradley was slowly slowly realising all the implications. On their second run through, Colin intoned quite neutrally, ‘Scudder strips off his trousers, and follows Maurice down onto the bed’ – and suddenly enough was enough.

‘Look,’ said Bradley, putting the already dog–eared script down on the table with a rather louder _whack_ than he’d intended. ‘All this _Maurice strips_ , and _Scudder strips_. What exactly are we talking about here?’

And for the first time, Colin looked a bit conscious.

Bradley had already added it up, of course. ‘Colin Morgan. Are we going to be… doing a _nude_ love scene… _together_?’

‘Um… yeah.’

‘Oh god.’

‘Look, it’s not that big a deal,’ said Colin. ‘It’s kinda weird at first, getting naked on stage, but you get used to it so quickly, it’s like you start wondering what on earth the problem could have been.’

‘Oh god.’

‘Bradley –’

‘Just… how much…’ he mimed something vaguely suggestive with his hands, ‘is this going to involve?’

Colin shook his head. ‘Far as I understand it, we lie down together, the lights dim, then when they come up again we’re sitting there cuddling in the afterglow.’

‘Right.’

‘Look! That makeshift bed we’ll be lying on – it’s about the least secure bit of furniture _ever_. You’ll be so busy acting _as if_ you’re comfortable that you won’t give the rest of it a thought.’

‘Right.’

‘Bradley…’

God, it was going to be mortifying. ‘What kind of – Are we going to have to –’ He dragged in a breath and tried again. ‘How does this work? Do we do all that in rehearsals?’

‘Not usually, no. Maybe just in the dress rehearsal.’

‘I’m going to want to know. That I can do that. Before then. Without anyone watching.’

Colin considered this very seriously, nodding as if he empathised. ‘All right. A run through. Just once, here. The night before the dress rehearsal. Just so we know.’

‘So we know,’ Bradley echoed in a whisper. He turned away, imagining it, creating it in his mind. As far as he could. Bradley lying back naked on the bed. Colin following him down, likewise naked, moving over him. And Bradley feeling nothing more _nor indeed anything less_ than what Maurice felt for Scudder… He sighed. Maybe it was a moan. Either way, it was kind of agonised.

‘Bradley?’

‘I can’t do this,’ he announced.

‘What?’

‘You said I don’t have to decide until tomorrow. Well, I’m deciding now. I can’t do this.’

Colin looked at him flatly. ‘I lied. You’re already committed.’

‘Oh god!’ he cried.

‘Sorry,’ Colin had the grace to offer.

Bradley did _not_ have the grace to accept.

♦

Strangely enough, now that he had something else to worry about, learning the role itself became a walk in the park. So that was all right. The cast and crew worked hard through the remaining rehearsals, with everyone kindly willing to put in extra time to help Bradley out. No one came down with whatever it was the understudy was still suffering wretchedly from. The final dress and indeed undress rehearsal was one of those ludicrous strings of silly disasters that made everyone laugh in giddy relief, cos of course a perfect dress rehearsal meant a bad opening night, and vice versa.

And before Bradley knew it, before he was in any way prepared, he was kissing Colin every night – or more to the point, Colin was kissing him, seducing him, and Colin was so utterly convincing that Bradley was mesmerised. There was that moment every night now when a naked Maurice shifted back to lie on the bed and an equally naked Scudder, well, _followed him down_ , and there was something about how Colin’s body always echoed his own or perhaps his own echoed Colin’s, there was a symmetry about it, a poetry, as if it were _right_ , as if they _belonged together_ – and Bradley asked the director about it, whether it was working or not, for the characters he meant, and the man just assured him, ‘ _Perfectly_.’

But still he fretted a bit, so after the nerves of opening night and press night were over, after the third performance while he and Colin were getting back into their regular clothes in the communal dressing room backstage, Bradley asked in a bit of a mumble, ‘Colin? Is there something we need to talk about?’

To which of course Colin brightly replied, ‘No, I’m good. Are you good?’

And he leaned in close although no one else was near them, and admitted, ‘I’ve never felt so thoroughly seduced before in my _life_. Are you sure it’s all acting? Or is something else going on?’

But Colin just smiled beatifically, and responded, ‘I’ve never _seen_ anyone looking so thoroughly seduced, so it can’t be my poor skills! Of course it’s all acting, Bradley, and you’re brilliant, you must know you’re brilliant, I’m so glad you joined us for this. Did you read the review this morning in _The Guardian_? Very impressed by you indeed…’

And really perhaps it was just as well about the nudity, cos while it was a lot easier – and even ( _very secretly_ ) rather more fun – to strip off in public than he could ever have expected, it still brought some self–consciousness with it, which meant he wasn’t in danger of _reacting_ … well, reacting like he would have if had been just him and Colin together on a bed at last…

What also helped to increase the self–consciousness and decrease the possibility of a _reaction_ was the fact that the audience switched into this awed hush, this rather scary–yet–delicious tension each time they sensed the nude scene, about which everyone was forewarned, was approaching. Bradley couldn’t help but pick up on it. He half wondered why the anticipatory energies didn’t make his hackles rise.

The producer took him and Colin aside once the first week was over, and asked in rather perplexed tones whether they minded the nudity given that a good half of the audience each night were women. ‘I don’t understand it,’ the guy said with furrowed brow. ‘This really is a _gay_ venue. Always has been. Not that we _mind_ selling out every night, and I suppose casting the two of you was always going to draw the attention of the mainstream press. Which is great! Though it’s confusing to consider quite what audience to target…’

‘Hey, it’s a success either way,’ Bradley said. ‘We must be doing something right.’

‘ _Merlin_ fangirls,’ Colin explained tersely, still bothering of course over the first point. ‘Some of them have… strange ideas.’

‘Strange?’ Bradley echoed. He drew himself up and said loftily, ‘You shall not mock our slash fans, for they are wise, and know the ways of the world.’

Colin laughed, genuinely amused. ‘That so?’

‘That’s so, indeed.’

‘Well, they’re paying punters,’ was the producer’s conclusion. ‘I’m really not complaining, whoever they are!’

♦

Another week passed. Another week of glimpsing Colin’s real affection in Scudder’s love, Colin’s wicked sense of adventure behind Scudder’s confident knowledge, Colin’s sensuality informing Scudder’s passion. Another week of realising that Bradley had been half in love with Colin Morgan, more or less, almost ever since they’d first met. Another seven days of Maurice being surprised by love and letting himself be seduced and finding his courage and winning through to a happy ending with his dear friend. Seven days of Maurice welcoming Scudder into his arms, and their thighs brushing and then pushing together side by side as Scudder settled – and once when Colin misjudged, his cock dragging heavy across Bradley’s thigh, and Bradley unable to prevent a moan escaping him. Seven days more of this to look forward to… and then nothing more. Because he and Colin were friends, if they were anything at all, and that was unexpected enough, it was foolish to hope for more. Even though… even though… it seemed clearer and clearer to Bradley that they were responding to something genuine within each other, and Colin became more and more self–contained as a result, his smile grew more and more forced.

‘This has to _mean_ something,’ Bradley insisted to him after the second week. ‘There’s something going on here.’

‘No, there isn’t,’ said Colin, quibbling. ‘It’s just the play. It’s… stirring things up that we’re better off ignoring. It’s creating a muddle.’

‘Colin –’

‘Leave it, Bradley,’ Colin asked, just very quietly. ‘Let it be.’

Bradley stared at him sullenly. ‘Why did you even ask me to do this play with you?’

‘I knew you’d be good. I knew you’d be able to pick it up quickly enough and well enough to make it work.’

‘Nothing else?’

‘Favour for a friend? You’ve got some great reviews out of it. And you’ve surprised people. In the right ways.’

‘Colin –’

‘Leave it, will you?’ Just very gently. ‘Please, Bradley.’

Well, he wasn’t such a heel that he could persist when Colin wielded that tone at him. Bradley sighed and let it be.

♦

Closing night was… a small triumph in its way. For the first time they got a standing ovation, with the fangirls and the gays all cheering like mad. When taking their bows, Colin was supposed to stand in between Bradley and Rob, the guy who played Clive Durham, but back three steps. Scudder just wasn’t as significant a role. Well, Bradley wasn’t having any of that tonight. He reached for Colin’s hand, and brought him forward so that Maurice had Clive on his right and Scudder on his left, and they all three enjoyed the acclamation. And Bradley pressed a kiss to Rob’s cheek, cos after all he’d been kissing Rob for the past three weeks as well, though of course nothing more than that ever happened between Maurice and Clive – and then he pressed a kiss to Colin’s cheek, and the fangirls went wild. Colin was looking bashful and pleased, but also maybe a little bit put upon, a tiny bit annoyed. Bradley persisted. ‘Going to give them what they want, Morgan?’ he asked, indicating the audience. ‘Just this once?’

Colin considered him. ‘Is this for _them_ or _you_?’

He was brave enough to admit, ‘Both.’

And after a moment Colin said, ‘All right. Just this once.’

Bradley grinned. ‘Let’s do it properly. Like Arthur and Gwen in the tent.’

‘Over–the–top romantic…? You wanna sweep me off my feet, Bradley James?’

‘Yeah…’ So that’s what they did. They almost literally brought the house down. And afterwards even Colin couldn’t hide the fact that his ocean–blue eyes _glowed_ as if they’d captured all the moonlight and all the starlight as well.

♦

They shared a cab home as usual, cos Colin’s place was on the way to Bradley’s. Except this time Bradley paid off the driver, and followed Colin up the steps to his front door. ‘You’re not coming in, Bradley.’

‘Yeah, I am.’

And once the door was open, Colin made no effort to prevent Bradley following him inside and through to the main room. ‘Bradley –’

‘I know you want this. Maybe not quite as much as I do, but –’

‘Bradley, this _isn’t_ part of the plan.’

‘What plan?’

Colin gestured helplessly in the air above him. ‘My life. My career.’

‘Then _sod_ the plan. It was a stupid fucking plan anyway.’

A combative look. ‘Hey, it got me this far. It got me a _long_ way already, when I had nothing but myself to work with.’

‘It’s going to make you miss out on the truest love you’ll ever know.’

‘That’s you, is it?’

‘ _Yeah_ , that’s me.’

Colin grinned at Bradley’s assertion, apparently despite himself. ‘Bradley James. I love it when you’re all mouth and trousers.’

‘Colin –’

‘ _It’s not going to happen._ Love is the biggest distraction of all.’

‘But what’s the point of having a life and a career and all the rest, if you don’t have love?’

‘Fuck’s sake, Bradley, I’m not saying _never_. Just… not yet.’

‘When?’ he demanded. ‘In five years? Ten? Twenty? During a hiatus? It’s not going to just miraculously happen according to your damned schedule, you know.’

Colin set his jaw obstinately. ‘The plan’s worked fine so far. You can’t deny it!’

‘Hey, even _you’re_ not infallible, Colin Morgan, and your plan isn’t either.’ And rather than lose any more momentum, Bradley closed the distance between them in two strides, took Colin into his arms, and _kissed_ him.

It was a beautiful kiss. Lush and passionate and genuine and clumsy and _real_ and _hungry_. All their kisses so far had only hinted at the possibilities of it. Colin struggled a little, participated a _lot_ , clung to Bradley’s shoulders and tried to wriggle out of his embrace all at once. When they parted, Colin was panting – with effort, with need.

‘Going to take you to your bed now, Colin Morgan,’ Bradley announced. ‘Last chance to convince me you don’t want this. But I should warn you,’ he added, ‘you’ve been doing a pretty crap job of it so far.’

‘No. Bradley, _no_.’

He paused, doubting for the first time in a while. ‘ _Seriously_ no?’

Colin closed his eyes for a moment, shamefaced. ‘I may… want to say _no_ occasionally. To you. Tonight.’

‘And not mean it?’

‘Mmm.’ He confessed in a murmur, ‘Not really.’

Bradley grinned. If Colin wanted to over–dramatise this assault on his life plan, Bradley could deal with that. ‘Then I’ll only stop if you say… Rumpelstiltskin.’

Colin grinned. ‘All right.’ Then he very deliberately placed his hands against Bradley’s chest. And pushed. ‘Leave me be,’ he whispered.

‘No fucking way, Morgan,’ Bradley replied. And he gathered the man up close and _kissed_ him again. It was awesome.

♦

They kind of wrestled all the way down to Colin’s bedroom, which only served to further inflame Bradley’s instincts to possess, then Bradley lifted Colin just far enough that he could throw him back across the bed. Colin tried to twist around and crawl away, but Bradley was too quick to let him get even _close_ to escaping – Bradley was already kneeling on the bed at his side, undoing Colin’s belt and jeans despite Colin weakly trying to bat his hands away – and Colin wore such loose jeans that moments later the denim and his cotton briefs were bunched halfway down his thighs, and Bradley was gazing down upon pale skin and dark hair and Colin’s cock standing rampant, and Colin gave a little moan that was half horniness and half reluctance. When he lifted up onto his elbows and tried to shift back and away again, Bradley pinned him easily with one hand on Colin’s chest and just enough weight behind it to threaten more. Bradley pinned him with a look as well, and while watching the man carefully, lifted his other hand to his mouth. Deliberately wet two of his fingers, slowly thrusting them in and out of his own mouth, his lips pouting with hunger.

Colin watched with a kind of horrified fascination, and when Bradley reached down towards Colin’s nether regions, he moaned, _‘No…’_ But he didn’t say the R word.

‘Going to make you mine, Morgan,’ Bradley told him.

And Colin groaned a protest, wriggled as if wanting to get away, but in the process his knees bent up further and his thighs parted as far as they could while restricted by denim. And there was hardly any resistance at all when Bradley finally pushed a finger inside him, nothing more than the natural pressure to overcome, and then Bradley had the man completely pinned down with a hand on his chest and a finger deep within his sweet arse, and Colin was moaning his name, ‘Bradley… _Bradley…_ ’ and then Bradley bent down and at last took that proud cock into his mouth, and suckled it – and soon so very soon Colin was coming with a cry, spilling seed against Bradley’s cheek and throat while he mouthed at the man’s balls – and as Colin lay sprawled there in a daze of satisfaction, Bradley dug in his wallet for a condom, freed his own cock from his jeans, rolled on the rubber – flipped Colin over and then plunged himself between those narrow buttocks – they both cried out at the wonderful intensity of it, and Colin had finally surrendered at some stage cos he was no longer even _trying_ to pretend he didn’t want this, but Bradley rode him hard anyway cos that’s what they both needed right now – not that he lasted more than a few moments, of course, and then he was collapsing down onto Colin as he _came_ , as he _shook_ with coming, muttering something filthy and loving and triumphant – and beneath him Colin was echoing him exactly.

♦

They lay sprawled there together for ages afterwards, too sated to move. Both fully dressed, and Colin even still had his hoodie on, but both also exposed from their hips down to their thighs.

When he finally came back to his senses, Bradley murmured, ‘You all right?’

‘Yeah.’ Colin smiled at him – a sweet uncomplicated smile. ‘You?’

‘Yeah. _Perfect._ ’

‘You are that,’ Colin said whimsically.

Bradley rolled up onto his side so he could kiss the man. Then he said, just very easily, ‘You’re mine now, Colin.’

‘Yes,’ was the response, just as easy.

‘I’ve been yours since… since _forever_.’

‘I know.’

Bradley glowered at the man for making him wait so long, but there was very little heat in it. ‘Colin, all we need now is a new plan. One that has _us_ in it. I don’t want to _ever_ get in your way, you know. You can do anything you want with your life and your career. _You_ – of all people – can do anything you want. I just want to be part of it.’

‘I know,’ Colin repeated in the warmest murmur. ‘And you _are_ part of it, Bradley. You’re already half of my life.’

‘My friend,’ said Bradley, quoting Maurice. ‘ _My friend._ ’

To which Colin quoted Scudder: ‘And now we shan’t be parted no more, and that’s finished.’

♦


End file.
